The Little Snake

by A.L. Kennedy

This is almost, but not quite, the whole of the story about a remarkable, wise little girl. She was called Mary. Everything I will tell you here began when Mary went walking in her garden on one particular afternoon.

She liked honey and whistling and the colour blue and finding out.

Nevertheless, the people in charge of the city were not overly fond of people and so some of the apartments in which the very many different kinds of people lived were often dry where they should have been wet, or wet where they should have been dry, or just cold and dark and supplied with especially listless electricity.

And they had larders as big as living-rooms and living-rooms as big as meadows and probably meadows in their basements that were as big as small counties with jewelled rollercoasters and golf courses made of cake.

she could look one way and see the very many sad, tiny houses of the squashed-in people. If she looked the other way, she could see the tall, sparkling buildings full of crocodiles and meadows.

The people who were in charge of the city and who didn’t very much like people hadn’t made many parks for children to play in, or for adults to sit down in and eat ice cream and tell each other how wonderful their children were (or how terrible their children were, depending).

People who came to visit the city would talk about it in the way that adults do in front of children, saying just what came into their heads and imagining that someone as small as Mary would not be able to understand them, or pay attention. They would say, ‘This city is very interesting, but there are no flowers to smell here and that makes us tired.’ Or they would say, ‘Things here are very expensive and we cannot afford to buy tickets so that we can hear people sing, or listen to music and dance. And we are surprised by the price of large sandwiches.’

They would tell her, ‘The garden is the same size, no matter how many paces you squeeze into it.’ She would tell them, ‘Not at all. The longer I take to cross the garden, the larger and more extremely wonderful it becomes, in the same way that ice cream becomes much more magnificent when you eat it very slowly with a little spoon.’ As I said, the girl was very clever.

She knew this because it told her so. Because she was very sensible, the little girl had not yet acquired the silly habit of talking only to people and would happily address objects and animals that seemed to be in need of conversation or company.

‘Aren’t you afraid? People usually are afraid of snakes. When they see me they frequently run up and down and wave their arms and scream.’ ‘Would you like me to do that?’ ‘Not especially,’ purred the snake.

‘I can get bigger.’ Mary thought this might be a lie, but she didn’t want to hurt the snake’s feelings.

‘Some snakes can bite you once and fill you with enough poison to kill twenty men, fifty men, maybe even a hundred men.’ ‘I’m not a man,’ said Mary. ‘I’m a little girl.’ The snake blinked. ‘You are being difficult. A snake could poison you even faster than a man because the poison would have less far to travel.’

‘But, yes, I am very hungry, too. Do you have, at least, some cheese? I might be able to survive on cheese. A little Gruyère, perhaps?’ Mary leaned in very close and kissed the snake on its nose. (Although, of course, it didn’t quite have a nose.) ‘You are very forward,’ the snake mumbled.

Mary did find the snake some little pieces of cheese and he ate them daintily before telling her thank you and disappearing in his fast and snaky way.

He also thought it was a good punishment for the tumblers and comedians if they had to keep on balancing and falling and doing tricks and telling him funny stories and jokes while he stared at them like a giant, solemn frog in a big silk dressing gown. He made them keep on and on until they cried, and if they didn’t cry he refused to pay them.

When he met people beyond his cavern they were deferential and gave him gifts, because you will always be given gifts if you already have too much. And if he wasn’t bowed to and petted and coddled he would usually go very red in the face and bellow, or go very white in the face and growl that everyone should be fired at once. And everyone would be.

He may or may not have been sleeping, but certainly his eyes were closed and he was making small th-th-th noises which might have been the way that a snake snores.

‘There are no snakes lovelier than me,’ said Lanmo firmly. ‘May I have some more cheese for breakfast? I am tired.’

‘Snakes do not go to school. Everything important in the world is written on the inside of our eggs. When we have finished reading and memorising what is written, we break our eggs and hatch.’

The small boy with ginger hair – his name was Paul – then asked, ‘Why is there a golden snake lying along the front of your desk pretending to be a ruler?’ It’s true, our friend Lanmo was lying very still on the teacher’s desk so that he could listen and find out how humans taught their young without the help of educational eggs.

‘Why are you giggling, you silly boy?’ shouted the teacher. Whenever she felt unsure or foolish she would cheer herself up by shouting. All the children understood this; it was part of their education.

‘Fffuh,’ said the Very Attractive Girl. We won’t bother with her name. She isn’t nice.

Even the headmaster, glancing out of his office window, was unable to stop himself noticing that there was a giant glimmering golden cobra rising from the dirty tarmac of the playground. The sight of it made him want to lie down at once until everything went back to normal, and so he hid under his desk. Once he was there, he shut his eyes and pretended that nothing was wrong so hard that he was never quite the same again.

Children are good at understanding grown-ups, but grown-ups are rarely able to understand children, which is odd because they have already been children and ought to remember what it’s like.

‘I am going because I feel guilty and I have never felt guilty before. I harmed you. I have to think about this until I understand it.’

When it was dawn and Mary woke, Lanmo was snuggled under her chin, all warm like a little scarf. She felt him wriggle as if he were pretending to be cheerful and not quite managing. Then he slipped along to rest on her pillow and look at her. ‘You may kiss my nose if you wish.’ Mary did so, frowning a little because this seemed like goodbye.

‘Will this be quick?’ ‘This will be quick and this will be for ever,’ said the snake. ‘Good night, Granny Higginbottom.’

The snake watched them from a shadow between the saucepans and then he went away and was busy in the many different countries that humans had marked out across the earth to keep themselves divided.

‘Promise me with all your heart and your entire attention that you will not ever squeeze through gaps in the jungle – they might contain poisonous spiders, or sharp thorns, or impolite and unpleasant and shockingly ugly snakes. And be careful in deserts because the sands also contain spiders and rude and horrifying snakes and scorpions and mountain lions. Be careful everywhere. In fact, perhaps you should stay in your city instead.’

They had also added pots containing herbs and tomatoes and a deep tub which was trying to hold potato plants. The plants looked quite angry and as if they didn’t want to make potatoes this year, or maybe ever.

and ran into her house, carrying the snake balanced on her palm like a tiny emperor with no arms and legs.

Lanmo used his most formal and embarrassed voice, standing up so that he looked very slightly like a short, respectable gentleman made of gold with some of the bits missing. ‘I am sorry, Mary. I misunderstood. I thought because you had no cheese that you were giving me this delicious . . . I mean this lovely kitten to . . . um . . .’ He said this last word very softly, ‘Eat.’

Those eyes disturbed the Great Man Who Loved the People. (We will call him GMWLtP from now on, because his name is too long and he won’t be needing it soon.)

Sometimes when there is nothing else to do, or nothing that can be done yet, it is best to be happy with friends and to let this strengthen your spirit.

He found it remarkable that humans could persuade themselves to keep going under almost any circumstances and that they were very willing to be joyful and courageous.

‘No, no, no, Lanmo, that would be terrible. Mr Chanson needs the money to buy his mysterious milk and make us more ice cream. We can’t steal from him – he’s nice. He gives everyone chocolate sprinkles, or sauce, or extra little dabs of ice cream for free.’

‘But you are hungry and other people have more food than they can eat.’ ‘Yes, but that is the way of the world.’ Lanmo thought about this and found that it was an unsatisfactory answer. ‘That is an unsatisfactory answer,’ he said. ‘I know,’ said Mary.

‘Lemons just hang from their trees and stay very still and you can pick them easily. All the fruits are like that.’ ‘That is very foolish of them. No wonder everybody eats them.’

‘Mmmnnnmmmnnn,’ Lanmo remarked. The treat had completely numbed his tongue. This had never, ever happened, and, although it was inconvenient, he quite liked it. He licked at the warm air for a while, as if he were a panting dog, but then he went right back to eating. ‘Sslllsmmsnnnmllllmmm.’ This was because he had never before encountered anything so delicious and also so much fun.

He was so happy to have new things happen after such a long life and so happy to be with his friend and to see her so happy.

‘Of course he is taller and older. Time has passed.’ ‘Oh, but this is terrible.’

Lanmo realised that letting his tongue get freezy frozen was a disaster. It might be hours before he could taste anyone properly. If Mary loved Paul and wanted perhaps to marry him, or go kayaking in the Arctic wastes with him, then the snake absolutely had to be able to taste him clearly and find out if he were reliable and if he loved Mary back and perhaps if he would be a good kayak paddler. Lanmo thought to himself, this is what it must be like to be a human, to never really know or understand the inside of anyone else. And their eggs tell them nothing . . . They are poor, abandoned creatures. Because his tongue was of no use to him, the snake settled for staring very hard at Paul in an examining way.

Lanmo craned his neck (which was also his back and some of his middle) all the way along Mary’s shoulders so that he could face Paul and say, ‘If you fought me you would fight no one else, forever after.’

‘Remember,’ the snake told them as they strolled in the dusty old sunshine past the empty shops, ‘remember that you must always lay your eggs in warm, dry sand, far from humans and their stupidity and angriness.’ Mary said nothing to this, only blushed. But Paul said quietly, ‘I think perhaps human children do not require sand. Or laying eggs.’

Afterwards, he slept in the hollow they had made for him in the grass, because this was the first home that had been built only for him.

‘But I am not like other snakes.’ ‘Of course you’re not. You are the only snake I will ever talk to and the only snake who will be my friend and the only snake I will ever love.’ At this, the snake cried a number of tears that were not unhappy. He had not known before that it is possible to cry because of joy.

‘Well, the captains of ships and all kinds of other humans may marry humans and humans are very silly, so I don’t see why I can’t marry you to each other much better than any of them. I am magnificent and wonderful and there is only one of me. Therefore . . . I shall marry you.’ He paused and seemed to be making an effort to grin, in as far as this was possible.

Then he wagged his tail to summon Paul and Shade closer, before hanging from a branch above them in a solemn manner. ‘I hereby marry you. Shade?’ The cat looked up at Lanmo’s ruby eyes. ‘You shall be our witness that these two are joined together in the ways that humans prefer.’

‘Oh, Lanmo. I am so sorry. This must be hurting you a lot.’ ‘I am being very brave. You may continue.’

And next Lanmo kissed Mary. ‘There, I have given you away, although you are not mine, but I do love you and so I have had care of you and now you are married.’ And the scale she held then flowed from where it rested in her palm to form a shining ring on her finger, even more beautiful than Paul’s, with a perfect image of Lanmo looped all around it.